“You cannot be with someone just because you don’t want to hurt him. You have your own happiness to think about.”
“Maybe weakness is a strength of a kind.”
“The world in your mind is as real as the world outside of it.”
“Schuyler pulled Oliver close and hugged him tightly. "Thank you," she whispered. Thank you for loving me enough to let me go.”
“Bonds are like rules, they're meant to be broken.”
“Prove it!" she hissed. "Prove you are who you are!"
"We don't have time for this! You really want me to prove who I am?" he asked.
"Yes!" she challenged.
In answer, he took her in his arms, lifting her up and against the wall. He pressed his lips against hers, and with each kiss she could see into his mind, into his soul. She saw a year of hate...saw him alone, alienated, hurt. She had lied to him and had left him. With every kiss he made her see, made her feel...every emotion, every dream he had of her...every ounce of his wanting and his need...and his love...his all-consuming, life-affirming love for her. In the darkness they found each other again...and she kissed him back, so greedily and hungrily, she never wanted to stop kissing him...to feel his heart against hers, the two of them intertwined together, his hands in her hair, then down the small of her back. She wanted to cry from the overwhelming emotion that engulfed the two of them....
"Now do you belive me?" Jack asked huskily, pulling away from a moment so they could look into each other's eyes. Schuyler nodded, breathless. Jack. Every fiber of her being tingled with love and desire and remorse and forgiveness. Oh Jack...the love of her life, her sweet, her soul...”
“Thank you for loving me enough to let me go.”
“It was so nice just to live in the moment, to enjoy holding him so closely, to pretend for a little while that they were merely two young people in love and nothing else.”
“She can't let him go not telling him what she was about to do.
Kingsley...I can't do this. I'm coming with you.”
“Memories were moving pictures in which meaning was constantly in flux. They were stories people told themselves.”
“The Code of the Vampires decreed that anyone who violated the Sacred Law was condemned to death, the blood burning. Charles had refused to subject Allegra to the sentence. But Mimi was a different matter. Mimi walked out of the church, knowing that if she ever saw Jack again, she would have to kill him.”
“Maybe she'd been drinking too much of the super-sweet Mexican Coca-Cola they had down here. Or maybe she was just tired, alone, and far from home. Because somewhere in the brittle, concrete center of Azrael's dark heart, something was melting.”
“Almost halfway down the aisle, she saw someone she wasn't expecting, and she almost stumbled on her satin heels.
Kingsley Martin stood at the end of a pew, his arms crossed. He was wearing a tuxedo as well. Just like any other guest. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be in Paris! He was supposed to be gone!
He looked directly at Mimi.
She heard his voice loud and clear in her head. Leave him.
Why should I? What do you promise me?
Nothing. And everything. A life of danger and adventure. A chance to be
yourself. Leave him. Come with me.”
“They did it for love, and sometimes love makes us do the irrational .. even the inexcusable.”
“She was a stranger in her own life, a tourist in her own body.”
“You are healed." Allegra nodded. "You are no longer a Silver Blood." She paused. "But you are no longer a vampire either."
Bliss started. No longer a vampire-but what did that mean? Did it mean she was just human?”
“You're late," she said, tapping her watch.
"No, you're just early.”
“I don't trust an organization that would make policy out of fear.”
“Bonds are made to be broken," he said. "Just like rules.”
“Do not cry for me, Azrael. Do not waste your tears. You made your decision. And this is mine. Sacrifice seems to be my destiny. A funny thing for a selfish man, isn't it? They always called me weak back then...”
“I'm proud of you, Bliss," he said.
"Michael's sword released the souls that were trapped in your blood. You freed them. You freed me."
"But now I'm never going to see you again, am I?" she asked.
Dylan smiled. "It's unlikely. But I never say never.'
"I wish you wouldn't go. I'll miss you so much," Bliss said.
"I'll miss you too."
Dylan put his hand up, and so did Bliss. But this time, instead of touching air, she felt his warm hand grasping her cold one. She looked at Allegra. Somehow, she knew her mother was making this happen. Dylan leaned down, and she could feel his lips, soft and inviting, gently kissing hers. Then Dylan was gone. But Bliss did not feel anguished. She felt at peace. Dylan was not broken and incomplete anymore. He was whole.”
“memories were tricky things…they weren’t stable. they changed with perception over time. …they shifted, and [she] understood how the passage of time affected them. the hard working striver might recall his childhood as one filled with misery and hardship marred by the cat calls and mae calling of playground bullies, but later, have a much more forgiving understanding of past injustices. the handmade clothes he had been forced to wear, became a testament to his mother’s love. each patch and stitch a sign of her diligence, instead of a brand of poverty. he would remember father staying up late to help him with his homework – the old old man’s patience and dedication, instead of the sharpness of his temper when he returned home – late- from the factory. it went the other way as well.
[she] had scanned thousands of memories of spurned women, whose handsome lovers turned ugly and rude. roman noses, perhaps too pointed. eyes growing small and mean. while the oridnary looking boys who had become their husbands, grew in attractiveness as the years passed, so that when asked if it was love at first site, the women cheerfully answered yes. memories were moving pictures in which meaning was constantly in flux. they were stories people told themselves.”
“Why should I? What do you promise me?
Nothing. And everything. A life of danger and adventure. A chance to be yourself. Leave him. Come with me.”
“Sometimes she was even sure that she had ever really existed.”
“When she reached the shallow end, Kingsley held out his hand and pulled her up, but she lost her step and fell into his arms, her body crushing momentarily against his.”
“Inside the church, the bondsmaids were walking slowly down the aisle,
with the little petal girls. Trinity turned to give Mimi her last words of
motherly advice: 'Walk straight. Don't slouch. And for heavens's sake,
smile! It's your bonding!?' Then she too walked through the door and
down the aisle. The door shut behind her, leaving Mimi alone.
Finally, Mimi heard the orchestra play the first strains of the 'Wedding
March.' Wagner. Then the ushers opened the doors and Mimi moved to the threshold. There was an appreciative gasp from the crowd as they took in the sight of Mimi in her fantastic dress. But instead of acknowledging her triumph as New York?s most beautiful bride, Mimi looked straight ahead, at Jack, who was standing so tall and straight at the altar. He met her eyes and did not smile.
'Let's just get this over with.'
His words were like an ice pick to the heart. He doesn't love me. He has
never loved me. Not the way he loves Schuyler. Not the way he loved Allegra. He has come to every bonding with this darkness. With this regret and hesitation, doubt and despair. She couldn't deny it. She knew her twin, and she knew what he was feeling, and it wasn't joy or even relief.
What am I doing?
"Ready" Forsyth Llewellyn suddenly appeared by her side. Oh, right, she
remembered, she had said yes when Forsyth had offered to walk her
down the aisle.
Here goes nothing. As if in a daze, Mimi took his arm, Jack's words still
echoing in her head. She walked, zombie-like, down the aisle, not even
noticing the flashing cameras or the murmurs of approval from the
hard-to-impress crowd.”
“School was more than academics; an education prepared you for the humdrum of real life: working with others, tempering one's personality to assimilate with the group but without losing your individual identity, understading the factors of logic, reasoning, and debate. For a person - vampire or human - to succeed in the world, unlocking the mysteries of the universe was insufficient. One would also need to grasp the mysteries of human nature.”
“Kingsley smiled his Cheshire smile. And without a word, he called up the white darkness—the subvertio—a spell that unlocked what could not be unlocked, that destroyed what could not be destroyed.
There was a rumbling, a shaking, like the strongest earthquake, and the iron gate crumbled, and the path began to melt. the demon shrieked, but Kingsley just looked at Mimi the entire time.
"Azrael...”
“<spoiler>Azrael...
In a flash, they disappeared. The path, the gate, the demon, and the Silver Blood.
Kingsley was gone. Trapped in Hell for eternity.
Mimi collapsed to the ground, as if her heart had imploded in her chest.</spoiler>”
“As long as she could remember who she was, she was okay. She wouldn't go crazy. At least not today.”
“That's how they say it: He loves you in his own way. Well, what about my way? What if I need for him to love me in my way?”
“Cinderella- thought she was the best. But honestly, what was her claim to fame? Turning a pumpkin into a coach? Or, how about making mice footmen? Preposterous. She was a disgrace to all the fairy godmothers out there with her ridiculous bippity-boppity-booing.”
“This slavery breeds ugly passions in man.”
“نحن لا نصبح متسامحين الا بقدر ما نفقد من حيويتنا , بقدر ما يطيب لنا الوقوع في الطفولة , بقدر ما يبلغ بنا الاعياء حد العجز عن تعذيب غيرنا بالحب و الكراهية”
“We need to give you two a couple name,” I said, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table. “Lucsey, perhaps?” Luc didn’t bat an eyelash; he simply turned a page of the newspaper. “Call us what you want, Sentinel. We already have a name for you.” That was alarming. Not that there was a way to avoid it, but I wasn’t sure I wanted them discussing my relationship around the Ops Room table. “No, you don’t.” “Yes, we do.” Lindsey stirred her spoon noisily around the walls of the yogurt cup to get the remaining drops. “You’re Methan.” “We’re what?” “Methan. Merit and Ethan. Methan.”
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